


Forgiveness; or In Defense of Kent Parson

by allofthefandoms



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Freeform, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, POV Second Person, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7914079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofthefandoms/pseuds/allofthefandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're 15, 17, 18, 20, 22 and 24 and then you let yourself heal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgiveness; or In Defense of Kent Parson

**Author's Note:**

> So this was just a tiny drabble that I posted on tumblr with no intention of cross posting here because it's so short, but it got a ton of notes and notice so I thought I'd archive it here as well in case other people wanted to see it.
> 
> This deals with the fallout of Jack's overdose and mental illness and it's effects on Kent, so while not necessarily a happy fic it is hopeful. Because Kent/healing is my otp.

You’re 15 and the world is at your feet. You do everything together, including win. You’re never apart and the kisses are as illicit as the beer you swig on the porch and they’re just as sweet.

You’re 17 and he doesn’t smile the way he used to except when you’re slamming into him after a goal. You win the cup and even then he doesn’t smile. When you ask him if he’s okay he doesn’t reply, simply sliding to his knees between your legs in your creaky billet apartment.

You’re 18 and he’s on the floor not breathing and you don’t know how you failed this badly at the things that really matter.

You’re 18 and they call your name first and you’re trying to remember to smile. It never should have been you and you’re sure they can see it written all over your face as you pretend you’re happy to be there.

You’re 18 and he still hasn’t called.

You’re 20 and you’ve won the only cup that really matters, but it still rings hollow because he’s not beside you. The years have perfected the smile that says nothing as you step in front of the cameras. You know the bartender knows you’re underage, but he still takes your money so you still drink.

You’re 22 and you have a cat and the captaincy. One is good for you, but you’re not sure about the other. You’ve started seeing a therapist at the gentle suggestion of a teammate and you’ve stopped drinking. You don’t think about him as much.

You’re 23 and you’re coming to terms with the fact that just because he had it worse doesn’t mean you can’t still hurt. He’s talking to you again, sort of, but you know you’re getting his media face so you don’t really bother. You’ve learned the benefit of not picking at the scab covering that particular wound.

You’re 24 and you tell him you miss him and he slams the door in your face.

You’re 24 and he has a cute little blonde boyfriend who is everything you’re not and you try not to be bitter. You may have won, but he gained a life instead. You talk to your therapist about how hot the jealousy burns and she tells you it’s okay to be angry. ‘It should have been me’ you tell her, but you’re less and less sure it’s true.

You’re 25 and he’s playing his first professional game. There are lines around his eyes that you don’t recognize, but you do know the smile. It’s real, and you’ve never been more thankful.

You’re 25, staring at him across the face off dot for the first time since you were children. Afterwards they ask you what it felt like and you tell them 'like old times’. Later that night you realize you don’t want the old times back.

You’re 25 and there’s a cat on your lap, and two friends beside you and he’s sitting in the chair across from you with his cute little blonde boyfriend when two things hit you at once. You will always love him, but it’s okay to move on.

You’re 25 and you do.


End file.
